


the sea never learns, you are the shore

by gravinnen



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 04:11:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4946221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravinnen/pseuds/gravinnen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>relationships are hard and a fight about furniture is the biggest deal in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sea never learns, you are the shore

Adam’s life feels lighter, lately.  
  
He still works more hours than he’s legally allowed just to stay alive, he still spends most of his days worrying about the price of peanut butter and he still thinks a lot about the tiny hole in the pair of shoes he wears to school but it feels like something he can handle instead of something that will drown him.  
  
Adam doesn’t really want to admit it but he’s smart enough to know it’s something to do with him and Ronan getting together and it’s strange, really, that someone like Ronan, who’s so heavy, so _there_ , can make Adam feel so light.  
  
It’s the kissing in the empty hallway of school when they’re too late for class and there’s nobody around to see them that makes breathing easier. It’s the way Ronan pushes all of the Scrabble tiles off the table when he knows he’s about to lose that makes the light a little less blinding. It’s the smell of the greasy pizza that’s delivered to Adam on a late night shift with Ronan’s name in the righthand corner that stills a hunger that doesn’t have anything to do with food.  
  
It’s Ronan staying over in the weekend that makes all the difference in the world.

Always, he makes sure there’s something for Adam to eat when Adam gets back from work and it’s great to come home to someone and talk about the strange customers Adam’s had to deal with that afternoon or the dumb things Gansey had said the day before in his desperate attempts to impress Blue instead of collapsing onto his bed by himself. It’s such a relief to feel like there’s someone waiting for him instead of always having to do the waiting.

Most of the time, they’re not even really doing anything substantial. Adam cuts pictures of cars and male models out of magazines while Ronan reads funny tweets from famous people out loud and they watch a lot of series on Ronan’s customized black macbook that Adam hates — mostly Scandinavian crime series but Ronan has recently introduced him to something called _Band of Brothers_ that made Adam almost cry and they watch one episode every week to make it last as long as possible — or they do some homework. Ronan’s just a little bit more ambitious about school these days and though he’s not entirely sure, Adam likes to think it’s at least partly because of him.  
  
They talk, a lot. They make out, a lot. Sometimes they wonder out loud which famous person they would like to have sex with the most while they listen to Alison Krauss singing softly in the background.  
  
“No, but if you could pick, like, anyone in the world, who would you pick?” Ronan asks.  
  
They’re lying on Adam’s bed, underneath Adam’s pale yellow blankets. There’s a spatter of dried up blood just on the side of the blanket from the time Adam had a two-in-the-morning nosebleed. Ronan is running his hands through Adam’s hair and all Adam can think is you, you, _you_ , I would pick _you_ , but he doesn’t think he’ll ever admit it. Though Ronan had told him three days ago that Adam was definitely the best-looking boy he’d ever seen, there are still some things he’ll never let Adam get away with.  
  
“Girls or boys?”  
  
Ronan rolls his eyes and grabs at Adam’s cheeks. “Boys.”  
  
“Right.” Adam pretends to think about, touching the blankets with the tops of his fingers. “You remember Hayden Christensen in Star Wars? Yeah, he makes me feel a lot of things.”  
  
“You answered that way too fast, man.” Ronan says, and then, “Hayden Christensen? Honestly? Of all the people in the world? Is it the light saber?”  
  
“ _Hell yes_. And the curls. And the general evilness.” He looks pointedly at Ronan. “I suppose I have a type.”  
  
“I suppose.”  
  
“Seriously though, evil Anakin is like fifty percent responsible for my sexual awakening.”  
  
“Who’s responsible for the other fifty percent?”  
  
“It’s a mix.” Adam says, stretching and yawning, bones in his back cracking.  
  
“A mix of who?”  
  
“You really want to know?”  
  
“I really, really want to know.”  
  
“It’s a mix of that guy from that movie I love.”  
  
“Colin Firth.”  
  
“Yes, him.” Adam says as he admires Ronan’s jaw and let’s his fingers brush over the point where he can feel Ronan’s heart beating. There’s something very intimate about touching without kissing and Adam’s noticed that he’s really into it. “Gansey, definitely, a little bit. _Harry Potter_.”  
  
Ronan nods in agreement.  
  
“And, you know, some other people.” Adam lays his head down on the pillow and closes his eyes, stretches out his legs. He hopes he’s being very casual about it.  
  
“Who?”  
  
“Someone you don’t know.”  
  
“Adam.”  
  
“Don’t make me say it.” He groans into the pillow.  
  
“Say it.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Say it!”  
  
“You.”  
  
It takes a few seconds for his words to register but then Ronan starts cackling. He claps his hands together in an excited move that strikes Adam as particularly un-Ronan-like. “That is so embarrassing, honestly. I mean, I knew you liked me but — _why?_ Was is the swearing? Please tell me it was the swearing.”  
  
“It wasn’t the swearing, you dick.” Adam says. He tries to shove Ronan but Ronan grabs him by the wrists and bites at his thumb. “And you don’t get to laugh at me! You made me a mixtape! _You gave me hand lotion_.”  
  
“I did give you hand lotion.” Ronan says softly and sweetly and dangerously as he kisses Adam’s knuckles. Adam can feel his neck turning red. “Fucking proud of it too. That shit took me a long time to dream up.”  
  
“ _Anyway_.” Adam tries his hardest to not notice Ronan kissing his way up from the tips of his fingers to Adam’s shoulders, over his freckled skin and the fabric of his long-sleeved, purple shirt. “Who made you realize you were into guys?”  
  
“One word.” Ronan says, biting at Adam’s nose. “Morrissey.”  
  
“Morrissey? As in, that old guy from that sad band?”  
  
Ronan leans back on his feet. “Excuse me, Adam, I think what you mean to say was that beautiful genius from the best band on this earth.”  
  
“No, I meant to say that old guy from that sad band.”  
  
“Babe, if you keep talking like this I’m going to have to dump you.”  
  
Adam ignores this. “That’s it?” He says. “One single seven-hundred-year-old guy from a dumb eighties band made you realize you were into guys?”  
  
It’s typical, really. Now that Adam thinks about it, he’s actually not surprised at all that Ronan had only ever needed one person to make him understand that he wasn’t into girls. It makes Adam feel a little jealous, like something’s been taken from in. For some reason, he had always stupidly assumed that he was the one who had opened Ronan’s eyes and suddenly he kind of regrets being so open about naming half of the boys he dreams about about at least once a month.  
  
“I heard he’s really mean.” Adam says, even though he hasn’t heard that or really any song that Morrissey could have possibly written.  
  
“Yeah, he has the actual worst personality. And that’s coming from me.” Ronan says earnestly. He’s nosing at Adam’s throat now and Adam’s definitely not whimpering. “It’s part of the appeal for me, I think.”  
  
“I also heard he smells bad.”  
  
Ronan pretends he doesn’t hear what Adam’s said and starts taking off Adam’s shirt instead, his hands getting stuck in the sleeves. “That reminds me actually, do you remember that girl from the bookstore? She saw me picking up a Morrissey biography and we talked for like, half an hour. She’s really nice.”  
  
That makes Adam frown. The last time Adam had heard Ronan say the word nice, it had been about someone dying a very gruesome death on the television and it makes him feel itchy all over.  
  
“Yeah, well, I heard she smells bad too.” Adam says. He’s just about to add that he’s feeling a little weird about Ronan talking to random girls at random bookstores, that he might be slightly jealous when Ronan grabs him by his hips and starts kissing Adam’s stomach. He thinks they can always talk about it later.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
The girl from the bookstore is only a recent development and it’s been putting Adam on edge for a few weeks now. The thing is, something is different about Ronan these days. Gansey had been the first to notice; approaching Ronan carefully like he would a wild animal and saying something about a glint in his eyes that he was certain hadn’t been there before. Blue had been the second person to realize; grabbing Ronan by the elbow in a moment of excitement, looking beside her to check if she was about to be attacked, only to find him pulling a weird expression and then grimacing at her.  
  
Of course, it turned out that Noah had been aware of it ever since it started but had simply chosen to not say anything about it; the hardness of Ronan’s face turning a little softer, his movements less frantic, less _heavy_ , his aura less violent.  
  
Ronan had been handsome before — straight-nosed and tight-lipped with a bad boy heart that challenged all the girls and all the boys to make him see the light — but ever since he started dating Adam, his permanent scowl has changed into something that resembles a half-smile and everyone’s starting to see it. Ronan doesn’t recognize the way the girl at the till of the grocery store leans just a little bit forward as she scans their items, or the girl at the library who stares at Ronan and tries desperately to strike up a conversation when they get their coffees and their muffins for a late-night cramming session, or the shy boy from the hardware store who drops his tools every time Ronan walks by.  
  
Ronan doesn’t see but Adam does.  
  
“Correct again.” Ronan says as he closes the French vocabulary book he’s holding and pushes it away from him as if it’s a dead animal.  
  
“God, Adam, you’re a machine.” Noah says.  
  
Adam’s lying face-down on his arms on the table, his eyes closed as Ronan let’s his fingers run over the nape of Adam’s neck, scratching his nails over the short, almost-white hairs. It gives Adam goosebumps. They’re in a nice little cafe where it’s quiet and comfortable because Adam wants to study and Ronan needs to study and Adam has just translated all of the seventy-five French words they need to know for the upcoming exam correctly.  
  
For the second time in a row.  
  
“One more time.” Adam says.  
  
“Adam.” Ronan rolls his eyes.  
  
“One more time.” Adam repeats. He needs to ace this test. He needs to ace every test.  
  
Ronan sighs deeply but opens the book at the beginning of chapter six anyway. As he looks around the cafe with its big tables and its positive mantras on the wall, Adam wonders if Ronan has even done so much as open his own French vocabulary book this school year. Or any school year, really. Not that he needs it; the summer holidays spent on the Côte d’Azur have made him close to fluent and the skiing holidays in Courchevel have made sure his pronunciation is almost indistinguishable from an actual French person. Adam thinks it’s very hot and very annoying.  
  
“Why don’t you start doing some tutoring sessions?” Ronan says absent-mindedly, stirring his coffee with the back of a pen. “ _Poulet_.”  
  
“Chicken.” Adam’s quick to answer. “And that’s not such a bad idea actually. Why don’t you?”  
  
“Because I’m rich as fuck, Adam. _Lapin_.”  
  
“Rabbit.”  
  
“ _Cheval_.”  
  
“Horse.” Adam pulls his hands further into the sleeves of his hoodie so only the tips of his fingers are still visible. “You’re so good with languages, though, Ronan. Sometimes you dream in Gaelic, did you know? And your French is perfect. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get a bad grade in Latin. Tutoring would look great on your college application and it’s great practice for your people skills.”  
  
“College application.” Ronan says and scrunches up his nose like he can’t think of anything he’d like to talk about less and then, “People skills? What do you mean by that?”  
  
“Just, you know, your face.” Adam brushes his sleeved knuckle over Ronan’s chin, the fabric scratching over his five o’clock shadow and it stirs something awake in Adam’s stomach. “It’s scary sometimes.”  
  
“I love people.” Ronan opens his mouth so Adam’s fingers disappears in it and bites. “I love life.” Adam can almost hear Noah rolling his eyes from across the table.  
  
“Can I take this?” A voice interrupts them. Adam quickly pulls his fingers out of Ronan’s mouth, puts his hands underneath the table and looks up to see a boy with sweet brown eyes smiling down at them. Adam’s empty coffee cup is in his hands and he holds it up questioningly.  
  
“Yeah, sure.” Adam says.  
  
Ronan smiles a smile that could almost be considered charming as he points to his own still half-full cup and when Noah hands his own coffee cup that Ronan emptied for him to the boy, their hands brushing, the boy says, “Oh, your hands are so cold. Do you need me to turn the heating up?”  
  
“It won’t help.” Ronan says, his face now twisted into a sly grin that makes Adam feel weak at the knees. “He’s dead.”  
  
“He’s joking.” Adam says quickly.  
  
“I’m not. He’s like, actually dead.”  
  
“What a funny joke.” Adam kicks at Noah, who’s put his face in his hands to hide his loud laugh coming out of his closed mouth in sharp wheezes. “Been dead for seven years.”

“ _All right, Ronan_.” Adam mutters through clenched teeth, looking nervously up at the boy who seems mostly unconcerned as he picks up empty plates and balances them on his arms.  
  
“It’s all true.” Ronan leans back in his chair, looking like the coolest guy in the world. “I never lie, you know.”  
  
“You’re funny.” The boy says and chuckles, his cheeks going pink when he looks at Ronan. Adam wonders if maybe he’s not the only one who’s knees are going weak. That itching feeling starts spreading through his body again.  
  
“Why, thanks — ” Ronan squints to read what’s on the guy’s name tag. “Ben.”  
  
“No problem — ” The guy looks at the name on the book Ronan’s still holding, says, “Adam.” And walks away, leaving a slightly awkward silence behind.  
  
“Great. Now he thinks your name’s Adam.” Adam says after awhile, slightly aggressively. It tingles in his fingers as he stretches out his hands in his sleeves.  
  
“No worries, calm down. I’ll just tell him it’s Ronan next time I see him.”  
  
“Next time you see him? When were you planning on seeing him next?”  
  
Ronan looks at Adam strangely, like he cannot possibly imagine what there is to be mad about, then pointedly at the huge amount of notes spread out on the table, not one of them written in Ronan’s handwriting. “I mean, I’m sure this isn’t the last time we’ve studied here.”  
  
“Right.” Adam says sheepishly.  
  
“Right.” Ronan repeats, opening the book to ask Adam seventy-two more French words.  
  
And Adam translates them all correctly.  
  
“You are so smart, Adam.” Noah smiles widely when Ronan’s gone to pay for their food and drinks with most of Adam’s money in his pocket. Noah hands Adam a piece of a chocolate bar. “You deserve it.” He says.  
  
Adam’s body is heavy, his shoulders slouching forward, his nose almost touching the books in front of him. He’s suddenly very, very tired and has a hard time not listening to the way the boy behind the till is laughing at something Ronan just said.   
  
“Hey, thanks, Noah.” Noah reaches out and takes both of Adam’s hands, squeezes. “You’re okay.”  
  
“I don’t know.” Adam says, honestly.  
  
“Ready?” Ronan says when he comes back from the till. “Oh, sorry, were you guys having a moment? I didn’t mean to cock-block.” He winks at Adam, clearly oblivious to how the atmosphere has changed since they first walked in. Adam laughs because it’s funny but it sounds hollow, even to his own ears.  
  
“You’re funny.” He says.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
“This is the best bed.” Ronan says, touching the blue bedding with both of his hands and pushing his right cheek deeper into the pillow. He looks vulnerable suddenly, weak, almost and the little noise of content that leaves his mouth makes Adam smile.  
  
“Hmm.” Adam hums, closing his eyes and sinking into the bed as well. For the twentieth time that day he thinks about how easily he could fall asleep here. His eyes feel heavy, like they’ve got sand in them and it’s hard to blink sometimes.  
  
“The best bed.” Ronan repeats.  
  
They’re in IKEA a few hours away from town because Adam has saved up a little money to buy himself a real nightstand instead of the cardboard box he now uses and this seems like the best place to find one. Adam had meant for it to be fun — the type of thing couples do in romantic comedies and Christmas commercials but Ronan had driven them there mostly in loaded silence and only now is the atmosphere finally starting into change into something that can at least be considered not entirely hostile.  
  
Just as they’d been about to step into the car, Ronan had said something that Adam thought was unnecessary and then Adam had answered with something that Ronan thought was unnecessary and so they’d been stuck not saying anything to each other and awkwardly listening to a religious radio channel preaching on homosexuality being the reason for the financial crisis for two hours because both of them had been too proud to give up and reach out to change the station.  
  
Adam thinks it would’ve been hilarious if it hadn’t been so tragic.  
  
“You would dream up great things in this bed.” Adam says, opening one eye to seize Ronan’s reaction and briefly allowing himself to think about what it would be like if he could actually buy it.  
  
“I bet.” Ronan smiles a hesitant smile that looks out of place on his dangerous face and it doesn’t feel like they’re okay at all. “I bed.” He adds.  
  
“How long have we been stuck on this floor anyway?” He asks.  
  
“Too long.” Ronan rolls ungracefully off the bed and doesn’t extend out a hand to help Adam. “I think we’ve tested out all of the beds now.”  
  
Adam thinks about making a dirty joke but decides against it, gets up instead to check which way they have to go. “The nightstands are definitely here somewhere.” He strides purposefully to where he thinks he can already see a few of them. Ronan doesn’t offer to buy any of the beds for him and no matter what the atmosphere is like right now, Adam still really, really appreciates that.  
  
“I like this one, I guess.” He points to a very simple, wooden nightstand and Adam doesn’t really but he does like that it’s fifteen dollars.  
  
“Or this one.” Ronan knocks against a slightly taller nightstand with his knee.  
  
“Or this one.”  
  
“Or this one.”  
  
“Or _this_ one.”  
  
That makes them both laugh, awkwardly, and it’s like breathing gets just a bit harder to Adam. He can’t deny that he’s been feeling a little on edge lately and he does think that he is the main reason for all the arguments they seem to have. The feeling of always waiting for something bad to happen is back with a vengeance but it’s different now, somehow. It’s not school worries, which Adam knows a cure for or money worries, which Adam at least knows how to deal with. It’s boyfriend worries and he doesn’t have the slightest idea of how to make those go away.  
  
It’s as if everything Ronan does makes him angry; the way he looks so sweet in his pajama shirt, how he always orders the most sugary coffee, how lately, he’s always charming everyone around him.  
  
He doesn’t think it’s jealousy, per se, because it’s bigger than that. It’s an all-encompassing sadness that makes Adam’s feet feel like they’re glued to the ground. It’s knowing that someday soon Ronan will probably realize what else — _who_ else — is out there and this, _this_ , coming to an end. It feels like Adam’s never really known Ronan at all and that’s scary.  
  
“Yeah, I think I’m just going to go for the cheap one.” Adam says as he writes down the number of the piece of furniture so they can go pick it up and Ronan starts carefully pushing him away from the nightstands, past the candles and the greenery.    
  
“Great choice.” He says. “I can’t wait to build it. It’ll make me look so manly.”  
  
“ _Right_.” Adam says, stretching out the word. He looks Ronan up and down; the tattoo snaking out from underneath his black hoodie, his aggressive buzzcut and his leather sneakers. “Because you really need to look manlier than you do now.”  
  
Their banter doesn’t feel real as they walk towards the warehouse to pick up the parts of Adams’s new nightstand. It feels like they’re playing at being a couple instead of actually being one.  
  
“How does this even work?” Adam looks around the gigantic warehouse with the single piece of paper in his hand. “How are we ever going to find a single nightstand in here?”  
  
Ronan shrugs. “Chances are I’ve been here even less time than you.”  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot you people don’t do furniture that costs less than a thousand.”  
  
“You people?” Ronan looks taken aback, which is a disconcerting expression to see etched on his handsome face. “I think my dad just dreamed it up, mostly.” He adds softly  
  
“Right.” Adam says. An awkward silence follows and then, “We could always just ask someone.”  
  
“Okay.” Ronan walks purposefully towards a boy in a bright yellow IKEA shirt. “Any idea where he can find this?” He shows him the number written down on the form while Adam awkwardly hangs back.  
  
The boy smiles the sweetest smile at Ronan and puts down the string of lights he is holding. “Sure. Just follow me.”  
  
They walk behind the boy — Adam checks and sees his name tag says, “Hi, my name is Jason” — and Ronan’s not really doing but walking next to the guy but Adam feels like he can’t breathe.  
  
“I’ll go and find it myself.” He grabs the piece of paper out of Ronan’s hands and stalks off.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
It’s an icy drive back to Henrietta and it’s an icy walk back to Adam’s apartment. When they barge through the front door, Adam bumps into Ronan and it gives him goosebumps in a way that he hasn’t felt for a long time. It’s like a switch has been pulled and now they’re back a year ago when all Adam could think of was how much he detested Ronan, how much he wanted slap some sense, some gratitude, into his beautiful face.  
  
Angrily, he starts putting together his nightstand, half-heartedly waiting for Ronan to crack a joke about how he’s not into porn that features handymen but nothing happens. Instead, Ronan begins to angrily chop tomatoes in half. He doesn’t seem unaware of the tension in the room but he also doesn’t seem like he understands what is going on and so he goes back to his default setting; relentless anger.  
  
Adam touches the wood with his fingers, tries to fit two pieces together so something table-shaped can appear and says, “It’s okay if you start dating someone else, you know.”  
  
“That’s funny.” Ronan says and he sounds like he means it but he stops chopping up the vegetables to look at Adam anyway. His mouth is set into an aggressive straight line, splitting his face in half. The dark scruff on his cheeks looks so good and it makes Adam’s stomach clench.  
  
“I’m not really trying to be.”  
  
“What are you trying then?” A tomato rolls off the kitchen counter and an awkward chuckle escapes from Ronan’s lips. “Setting me up on a date? With _someone else_?”  
  
“I’m just telling you that if you wanted to, like, start dating other people, don’t let me hold you back.” Adam sounds a lot more casual than he’s feeling and he can see in Ronan’s eyes that he’s putting on a believable act. Always putting on a believable act. “You’re not dating other people now, are you?”  
  
“No, because I’m not a total fucking asshole.”  
  
There’s the start of a confused expression tugging just at the corner of Ronan’s lips and a blank look in his eyes, like he can’t understand the physics of dating more than just one person at a time, like he can’t even fathom dating anyone but Adam. Somehow, this annoys him. Adam can feel it in the fire in the pit of his stomach and the tingle just near his fingertips.  
  
“What I’m trying to say, Ronan.” Adam says through clenched teeth. “Is that, if you want to like, quit this before it starts to be something, that’s fine with me.”  
  
“What the fuck, Parrish.”  
  
“I’m serious. I mean, hopefully I’m getting out of this place soon anyway. I wouldn’t want you to think of me as a burden while I’m away at college.”  
  
The color’s drained from Ronan’s cheeks now and realization has started to dawn on his face. “A burden? What is your problem, Adam?”  
  
“I don’t have a problem.” Adam says, trying very hard not to slam his fist down on the half-finished nightstand. “I’m trying to think ahead. I’m doing this for you, you know.”  
  
“You’re not trying to think ahead, you complete dick. You’re trying to fucking _get_ ahead.”  
  
Adam ignores this. “I’m just thinking it might be for the best to kind of, nip this in the bud.”  
  
“Nip this in the bud.” Ronan’s fists are clenched, his nails digging into his skin. Adam can see his knuckles turning white as he tries very hard to not think about how at any other point in time, Ronan would’ve said, _I’ll nip you in your bud_ with a sleazy grin on his face and a hand in Adam’s hair. “Well, fuck you too, Parrish.”  
  
“I didn’t mean it like that.”  
  
“What did you mean?”  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“Are you breaking up with me?”  
  
Adam takes a deep breath before delivering the final blow. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s really anything to break up.”  
  
The silence seems to go on forever and then, “It’s just never enough for you, is it, Adam?” Ronan sounds dangerous now, speaking softly, choosing his words carefully, picking the ones that hurt the most. “It’s just never fucking enough.”  
  
“That’s not what this is about.”  
  
“Your trailer trash house wasn’t enough. Your trailer trash school wasn’t enough. Your whole trailer trash life wasn’t enough. And it never fucking will be.”  
  
Adam only realizes he’s thrown a plastic bottle against the wall when it hits the ground. The sound of it echoes in the one ear that still works and his face feels hot.  
  
“Shut the hell up, Ronan.”  
  
Ronan looks pointedly at the bottle, then lifts his eyebrows. “I’m not fucking saying anything.”  
  
The words hit him like a punch in the stomach and he hates how much of a familiar feeling that is. It’s like he’s only proving Ronan right.  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
“Guess what, Adam, you are what you are. No matter how smart your next girlfriend is. No matter how succesful your next in the closet politician boyfriend might be.”  
  
Adam clenches his fists now too, because Ronan’s getting this so, _so_ wrong. He’s not doing any of this for himself because all he ever seems to think about is other people. Adam’s angry at the boy from the coffeeshop for making them this way, at the boy from IKEA for ever helping them, for anyone who’s ever tried to meddle. He’s angry at himself for living up to all the low expectations anyone’s ever had of him.  
  
“You’re horrible.” He says.  
  
This doesn’t seem to hurt Ronan’s feelings at all, not like suggesting he might date someone that’s not Adam did. He shrugs like he’s heard it a million times before, which he has, probably, as he slowly puts down the knife.  
  
“Yeah, well, at least I’m fucking honest about it.” The door slams shut.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Gansey knocks on Adam’s door almost exactly sixteen hours later. He looks glorious and upset in a beige trench coat that cuts just above his knees and black Ray Bans that take up half of his face. His mouth is set in a tight line, like all mouths on the faces of people close to Adam seem to be lately.  
  
Adam appreciates that Gansey has at least tried to give him some space but he still finds himself saying, “Did you set an alarm?” a little more aggressively than he would have liked.  
  
“No.” Gansey answers but it sounds a lot more like _yes_.  
  
“Did you talk to Ronan?”  
  
Gansey walks into the room and sits down on the mattress on the floor. “Define talking.” He says.  
  
“Making sounds.”  
  
“I mean, there are sounds coming out of his room but he hasn’t made any sounds at me, personally.” Gansey looks at his nails.  
  
“Right.” Adam hands Gansey a glass of water and sits down next to him. He doesn’t really feel like making sounds at Gansey either.  
  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Gansey asks because he is nothing if not completely oblivious. He’s holding the glass of water awkwardly in his hands and looking completely out of place in Adam’s little room. His hair is so shiny and it is all so just completely annoying to Adam.  
  
“Ronan’s a dick and it never would’ve worked anyway.”  
  
Gansey shuts his eyes like the words are physically hurting him and Adam thinks that’s definitely a little dramatic. “If I had a dollar for every time someone’s said those exact words to me.” He says.  
  
“Can you even like, be any richer?”  
  
“Yes. You can always be richer, Adam.” Gansey opens one eye first, then the second, frowns. “That was a dumb thing to say. Sorry.”  
  
“That’s okay.” Adam look at his own nails that he’s been biting down so hard that they hurt whenever he puts any pressure on them. The skin around them looks red and angry and he didn’t think that he felt sad exactly but it seems that his body is always only ever betraying him.  
  
“I don’t really want to talk about it.” He says, and then, “I need to get to work soon anyway.”  
  
Gansey sighs like he’s exhausted and Adam thinks, hey, you’re not the one who may have just been dumped by someone. He thinks, hey, you’re not the one who may have just dumped someone. He thinks, hey, you should definitely shut up. Gansey’s beige trench coat is upsetting to Adam, somehow.  
  
“You can always just say sorry.”  
  
“I have nothing to be sorry for.”  
  
Gansey puts down the still almost-full glass on the ground and gets up to walk to the door. “All right.”  
  
He doesn’t sound like he believes Adam at all and that is even more annoying than Gansey’s stupid, beige trench coat.  
  
“Come over if you you need anything.” Gansey says. “I have a feeling Ronan will be gone tonight so you should be safe.”  
  
When Gansey’s gone, Adam puts on John Denver and cries, just a little. He feels like never going to Monmouth ever again.

  
  
***  
  
  
  
Things are definitely a little strange after that. Adam doesn’t think him and Ronan are over but they’re also not really talking and that’s difficult. Not only because Adam keeps forgetting they’re fighting and it’s a blow every time he realizes it but also because he has only like, one other friend who actually goes to his school so breaks are becoming just a bit awkward.  
  
It’s been a little over one week since the fight and Gansey tries to split his time between Ronan and Adam during the moments when they are at school but lately, Ronan doesn’t even show up to Latin anymore. Adam hates himself for it but he’s relieved every time the chair next to his usual seat remains empty.  
  
“Have you heard anything from Ronan lately?” Gansey asks casually during their afternoon break, touching his coffee cup with his forefinger and not looking at Adam.  
  
To be fair, Gansey has been taking it kind of well. He’s clearly trying his hardest to not invade Adam’s privacy, the strange boundaries he’s set up for other people and he hasn’t made them go on any king hunts, which Adam is grateful for. Adam can understand Gansey being curious if his two best friends ever plan on making up but it still irritates him that he’s being forced to talk about it.  
  
“No.” He tries to sound nice but it’s hard when Gansey looks soft and glassy-eyed, his beige polo shirt a perfect match with the orange Autumn leaves outside.  
  
“He hasn’t really been home the past week.”  
  
Adam looks at his water bottle and doesn’t say anything.  
  
“I do wonder where he goes.”  
  
_To hell_ , Adam wants to say, but that feels too mean, even for him, so instead, he remains silent.  
  
“You could apologize.”  
  
“Gansey.”  
  
“Not just you. Both of you.”  
  
“ _Gansey_.” Adam balls up his fists, then forces himself to relax. “Don’t meddle.”  
  
Gansey’s quiet for a minute and Adam thinks that maybe, Gansey gets it — that he understands that he can’t always get what he wants, that Ronan and Adam aren’t his to command, that they have minds of their own and that they’re not always going to do what Gansey wishes they would do but Gansey lifts his finger, presses it against Adam’s chest.  
  
“You know, I used to think Ronan was the one who was always self-sabotaging himself but turns out, you’re just as bad as each other.”  
  
Adam makes a fist around the finger pressed against his ribcage, pushes it back against Gansey’s chest. He is calm, he is calm, he is calm. “I don’t have time for this.” He mutters through clenched teeth.  
  
“That’s quite funny because I don’t have time for my friends not speaking to each other and yet, here I am.”  
  
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.”  
  
“There’s literally nothing on this earth that doesn’t suit me.”  
  
Adam hates how true this is. He hates everything and it is burning him up.  
  
“Have you seen Ronan, lately? Like, in the past year?” Gansey presses on. “Handsome guy? Abs of steel? Loves picking fights?”  
  
“I’ve heard of him, yeah.”  
  
“Do you think, if he was ever interested in anyone else, that he might’ve, you know, _gotten together with them_.”  
  
“That’s not what this is about.” Adam says, because it isn’t.  
  
“Right, right, of course. So you break up with Ronan, right? Because you’re so scared he might break up with you and you would rather get there first. And then it hurts for a while and then it doesn’t anymore and then you meet someone else. And you get together with that person because that’s what people do, isn’t it? Except then you start noticing other people looking at that person and you start thinking, maybe I’m not good enough for this person either. And so you break up with them and that sucks, obviously, but then you meet someone else, and you meet someone else, and then you meet yet someone else. See where I’m going with this?”  
  
“I have an inkling.”  
  
“Like, I get that you’re eighteen and you’re supposed to be a little worried about what your next snapchat should look like, the way you sound on film and the size of your — ” Gansey looks around the cafeteria, then lowers his voice to a hush, “ — _car_ but breaking up with someone just so they can’t break up with you seems like the lamest thing to do.”  
  
Adam feels most of the fight leave his body. “That’s not what this is about.” He repeats.  
  
“Right, okay, go through the timeline of your relationship with Ronan and then come back to me and tell me this isn’t what it’s about.”  
  
Adam doesn’t say anything, stares determinedly at Tad Carruthers trying to fit three satsumas into his mouth. For some reason, the memory of Ronan trying to do a handstand against a wall in Adam’s apartment keeps popping up and it’s making Adam feel more feelings than he thought were even possible.  
  
He thinks, this must be what Gansey feels like all the time.  
  
“You’re both dumb and super annoying and you need to fix it.” Gansey gets up from his chair dramatically, looking like he’s enjoying himself now, slamming his hands on the table as he mutters, “and I wasn’t talking about the size of your car, by the way.”  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
This isn’t what this about, Adam thinks.  
  
It isn’t, it isn’t, it isn’t.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  


He asks Blue for advice, which was something he was too proud to do two weeks ago but now feels desperate for. She doesn’t even bother pausing The Princess Diaries when she says, “You had a fight, Adam, it happens.”  
  
“Yeah, but, this was a bad fight. He said some really shitty stuff.”  
  
“You are dating Ronan.”   
  
“No but like, really bad.”  
  
“You are dating Ronan.”   
  
“He was pretty angry.”  
  
“You are dating —”  
  
“Right, right, Ronan, I know.”   
  
She pauses the movie then, right in the middle of Mia Thermopolis’s metamorphosis which Adam has always loved to hate and looks at Adam earnestly. Her nails are green like Christmas trees are and for some reason, this makes him feel a little better.  
  
“Couples fight, Adam. You say bad stuff to each other and then you make up. Both of you are making this a way bigger deal than it is. Imagine if all the couples having fights would just stop showing up at school? Maths would literally become extinct.”  
  
“Hm.”  
  
“Honestly, Adam, when I think about all the would-be fights Gansey and I would have during our would-be relationship, it’s almost enough for me to not want to kiss him anymore.” She shrugs, her lips tilted down in a would-be smile that breaks Adam’s heart. “But it’s part of life, you know, and —”  
  
“What?” Adam says after a few seconds.  
  
“Nothing. I was just trying to come up with a great quote about life and fights and love but all I can think about is how Nino’s should start selling pizzas with M&Ms on them.”  
  
This gives Adam an idea.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
It’s just getting dark when there’s knock on the door of Adam’s apartment. The sound of it seems to come from a foot against the door rather than from a fist and when Adam opens it, he’s not surprised to see Ronan standing behind it. Relief washes over him when Adam spots him holding a four cheese pizza with green and blue M&Ms making the shape of a very colorful Chainsaw on it. It’s only missing one bite.  
  
“Now that’s just rude.” Adam says.  
  
“That was the shittiest fucking pizza on this whole fucking planet.”   
  
Adam thinks they might just be all right.[  
](http://gravinnen.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> fights with your boyfriend are the end of the world when you're eighteen and I didn't think Adam and Ronan would be an exception to that rule. this is my first time practicing with a somewhat unreliable narrator which was an interesting experiment. title is from the song you are the shore by sirena.


End file.
